#Barbers Hill High School

[modeljusticelee]

Racial Discrimination: A Texas School Districts Fight over Hair Policies

Now this is interesting. Darryl George‘s story has made national news, as again one Texas School District is called into question over their school policies on hair. I’m left wondering what the regulation is for girls in the district. Are the policies the same? If they are not, the district could be facing some serious repercussions. In the world we live in today, not only could they be hit with…

[pagesoflauren]

Calamitous Love Chronicles: Delicate Beginning Rush (3/4)

Premise: Steve Rogers blows into town in search of some estranged family. As he settles into civilian life, he realizes leaving work is hard and perhaps the world will never stop needing him.

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, mentions of abandonment by a romantic partner, complex familial dynamics, sexual content.

Thank you to @hyperfixationhovel. And if you're still around, thank you for being here as I find myself again. Also, my blog needs a huge refresh, so please bear with me while I find time to do it!!!

Main Masterlist

You’ve seen Steve one-on-one both inside and outside of work throughout the last month. 

He comes to play with the animals, preparing to adopt one and bonding with each one to find the one that connects with him the most. At first, you thought he and Major would be a perfect match. German Shepherds are intelligent, able to follow commands well and they look like a suitable pair. However, the canine is still on the aloof side, and you’ve realized that Steve needs a dog with a kinder demeanor. 

The smaller dogs are a little too intimidated by him. Despite playing, they can’t quite keep up with his wide strides as he joins you for daily walks and playtime is underlined with aggression as the little dogs try to assert some semblance of dominance over him. 

Cats are even more withdrawn, not complimenting Steve’s need for a softer, sociable companion. You laughed as he attempted to engage with them using various feathered toys and a laser pointer and failed in nearly every attempt.

“She likes you,” you remark as he sits on the floor with Willow, smiling as the golden retriever pup playfully nips at his palm. 

“I think I like her too,” he agrees with a nod. 

The clock beeps on cue, earning some whines and howls from the animals as the work day comes to a close. You begin to cover the carriers and get everyone settled for the night. As you turn to look at the puppies, Steve is putting Willow in her kennel and giving her a few more pets before shutting the door. 

You finish closing up, setting the alarm and locking up the shelter. 

“Can I join you for dinner tonight?” Steve wonders, feet tacked onto the sidewalk next to the front door.

Smiling, you nod.

- - -

Seated by the window in the diner, you place an order with the waitress before she clears away the menus. Steve is people watching on the street and you hate to disturb his peace, but the question is gnawing at you.

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

His head twists quickly to look at you, eyes attentive as he gestures for you to proceed with your question.

“Is this…” The beginning of the question begins to sound silly in your mind. It’s so high school, but you have to know. “Are we on a date?” 

You bite your lip, waiting as he purses his lips in thought. 

“Would it be bad if this was a date?”

“No,” you answer, probably a little too quickly. You stumble over your words as you try to recover from your eager response. It’s always been a pitfall of your personality; you can’t keep your ideas in for the life of you and they come out so impulsively. It’s why you decided to work with animals, unlike your sister. If you had her job, the kids at the preschool would know your business, then their parents and the entirety of Barber, for that matter. 

Your nerves show as you rip the wrapper of your straw to miniscule pieces, even more humiliated as you fail completely at saving face. 

Well, I’ve bungled another one.

Your forwardness hasn’t paid off in the past, men would often head for the hills once hearing you expressed any thought that what you felt with them was more than a mere enjoyment of their company. The moment you told them you liked them or, in this case, called an outing a “date”, it was game over.

Your wrapper is smithereens on the table, your proverbial white flag as you prepare yourself to be let down “easy” yet again. You don’t meet his eyes; you can’t bear another look of uncomfortable sympathy as another man rejects you. 

As your hands begin to retract into your lap, Steve catches them in one of his. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you flowers before taking you to dinner.” 

Blinking in disbelief and confusion, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“It’s a date,” he laughs. “I should’ve bought you flowers. Actually, I’m overdue for flowers. Our first date was the picnic in the park.” 

“Oh, that doesn’t have to be a ‘date’...” you begin.

His fingers loosen around yours. “Do you not want to count that?”

No, no, you panic, gripping him tighter. “No,” you shake your head. When you detect the disappointment in his face, you begin to backpedal, “No, I mean, I don’t not want to call that a date. We can call it a date, our first one, if you want.” You take in his face again, not finding anything. “Or…we don’t have to.”

“Okay, how about this,” he laughs, bringing his other hand up. He laces your fingers together, palms warm against yours. “This is our first date. And I’ll bring you flowers in the morning.” 

With how much your brain likes to think, you try to go through the catalog of time you’ve spent with him. An errand here, a dog walk there, a dog bath here, and the picnic. You try to think which of those encounters you started wanting to see him day after day after day until the end of days. 

Truth is, it was the moment he walked into the shelter the first time. 

Squeezing your fingers, you add your voice to your silent affirmation. 

- - - - - 

“Would you like to come in?” you ask, “This is a date, after all.” 

Lump in his throat, Steve has trouble finding his voice. He nods and places his hand on the small of your back as you go up the stairs. 

The space is small but the open, shared area between the kitchen and living space removes any feelings of claustrophobia. 

There’s a kitchen table with two chairs. He can see which one you use by the faded spot where you’ve gripped the top of it to pull it out. It faces the front window; fitting for you to want to take in the sunshine before getting started with your day. 

The living space has a small bookshelf with sets of novels, along with some trinkets and photos. Under the TV in the stand is a basket full of crochet supplies, a half-finished fluffy blanket spilling out of the top. He figures it’s for the animals downstairs in preparation for the winter. 

“Do you want some wine?” you offer. “Or if you’re in a crazy mood, I have some vodka.” 

“Damn,” Steve laughs. “I’m good for now.” 

“Okay,” you say, grabbing two drinking glasses. You take out your pitcher from the fridge and begin to pour water in both of them. “Water’s important, though.” 

“That’s true.” 

You hand one glass to him before leading him to the couch, turning on the TV. There’s a rerun of a late night sitcom playing, so you lower the volume and get comfy.

“What do you like to watch?” 

“Last time I watched TV, I was into Beevis & Butt-Head.” 

“Ew,” your face grimaces at weird, gross teenage-boy humor. “Sorry. Not that I was much better. One Tree Hill was my entire personality in high school.” 

“What’s that?”

Steve watches in amusement as your head turns to look at him faster than a .22 caliber bullet. “You don’t know?”

He shakes his head. “I have a feeling I’m about to find out.” 

And you’re off, spewing names and descriptions in every direction and he’s taking it all in like a mission log. His mind conjures up a relation chart, connecting the two main male leads as half brothers and their respective friends and love interests. 

“It’s so high school drama, but I couldn’t get enough of it.” 

“Can we watch an episode?” 

His heart leaps when your eyes light up.

- - -

With three episodes of One Tree Hill watched, you pause the show. 

“Interesting so far,” Steve remarks, though you notice his face is expressionless, the fronts of his eyes glistening with a slight glaze. 

“You don’t have to watch it anymore if you don’t want to.” 

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I did mean that, it was interesting. It’s just…”

“So high school?”

“Yep.” 

“That’s fair,” you say, stretching. As your muscles relax, you recline against the back of the couch. Feeling eyes on you, you look up at Steve. 

He’s looking at you oddly; you can’t figure out what he’s thinking or what he wants.

“Ste–?”

You don’t get to finish, not when he takes your face in his hands and kisses you feverishly. 

Oh, that’s why he was looking at me…

You can’t recall if anyone has ever kissed you this way, something that seems to put your body on autopilot as you lay back across the cushions with him settling on top of you, pressing his weight onto your body while his hands begin to wander down your sides. 

It’s dizzying, overwhelming as he reaches for the hem of your shirt. Your hands find the front of his chest, pressing against him to get his attention, but not enough to push him away. 

“I need to slow down,” you speak up.

“Sorry,” he pants. “It’s been…not that I’m eager to only do this, but…” He trails off, looking away from you to find the right words. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this way about someone.” 

“Me too,” you say. “The last time I dated someone was a long time ago. Just been me and the animals since then.” 

The two of you share a laugh at your shared dry spells. Around you, the air buzzes with the eager electricity of desire. 

You swallow your nerves and muster the courage to ask if he thinks the two of you would be more comfortable in the bedroom. He doesn’t answer, but instead gets up from his position above you before holding out his hand. 

Standing with him, you place your hand in his, accepting his kiss when he leans in for another one. 

With a little tug, you take him to the little corridor past the bathroom and the washer and dryer and lead him into the bedroom. You let go of his hand to turn on your bedside lamp. There’s no need to turn back and look at him when his hands come around your waist and pull your body close to his. His face finds the crook of your neck, lips pressing kisses there that ignite your body. 

His hands begin to wander, cupping your chest and gliding down your front to pin your hip back to keep you flush against him. 

Your lungs struggle, body overstimulated with all the contact against your back while your front screams for more. The clothing begins to feel stifling and you yank his hands off of you to take your shirt off to discard it on the floor. Turning to face Steve again, he’s acting before you can. 

He grips your hips again, falling back onto your mattress heavily and taking you with him. His hands guide you to straddle his hips, your groin positioned just above the growing tent in his pants. 

You feel one hand trailing up your back as he begins to undo the clasp of your bra. As he busies himself with that, you begin to pull at the hem of his shirt, bringing it up until he has to pause his act to take it off all the way. Tossing the shirt to the floor, you reach up with your other hand and unhook your bra all the way. 

“I had a handle on it,” Steve jokes, sitting up and burying his face between your breasts. 

He takes your nipple between his lips, suckling and wiping your brain of any witty comebacks so you settle for an, “Mhm.” You try to add a tone of sarcasm, but it’s hard to know how it came out as your head spins. 

Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping the short strands between your fingers as much as you can as you begin to grind your hips against him. 

The world spins as he flips you onto your back, your knees still around his waist until he stands back and unbuttons his pants. You follow his lead, reaching down and popping the button. Before you can shimmy out of the waistband, your hands are swatted away and replaced with his. 

Thumbs hooking into the sides of your underwear, those are removed too, leaving you bare in front of him. His eyes are fiery when he meets yours, holding your gaze and waiting for any sign to stop. Hands on your knees, he spreads your legs and exposes your center. His eyes catch the shine of arousal in the soft light from your lamp, mouth watering in anticipation. 

Lowering himself to his knees, he pulls you slightly closer to the edge of the bed, the perfect spot for him to lean forward and press his tongue between your lower lips. 

It draws a gasp from you, then a sound of pure arousal as he pleases you. A hand drifts up again, stimulating your breast with tugs and flicks at your nipples. The hunger behind his mouth and desperation from his hand goes straight to your head. He works you to the end and through it, sending you flying over the edge and keeping you floating until he’s satisfied. 

He stands over you, boxers off and stroking his length as he pushes you to the middle of the bed. His eyes don’t leave yours as he grabs a pillow to stuff beneath your hips and brings your knees around your hips. 

When he slides in, it’s an easy glide and the both of you have to take a moment to process the sensation. He fills you up, giving a delicious pain that makes your thighs quiver. You grip his cock so tightly, soft around him that his toes curl in bliss. 

“You okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you respond. He’s concerned at how choked you sound.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I just…” you exhale, “I need you.” 

He obliges, withdrawing his hips and propelling them forward. He finds a rhythm, building up a steady, satisfying pattern that has you holding him tighter and crying out for him in desperation. It spurs him on further when you begin begging; you don’t need to, he’s so willing to give you everything you need. 

A string of expletives falls out of your mouth and he delivers a series of steady, forceful thrusts, resisting the loss of stamina as he finds himself finishing sooner than anticipated. He leans forward and keeps up, sucking at the skin of your neck and toying with your nipples again. When your hands fly to the comforter and your body tenses beneath his, he reaches down to stroke your clit and carry out your orgasm as long as you can bear it. 

When you shrink away from him, he slows down and eventually stops, fingers grazing over the outside of your thigh as his lips find your cheek.

“You okay?” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Mmm,” you hum in acknowledgement. 

He flips you over again, nestling you into his side so that he can keep you close as you both navigate the fog of post-coital bliss. 

- - - - -

You stumble into the living area using your fingers to undo a knot in your hair. You can smell toast and eggs, along with coffee. On your dining table is a bouquet of fresh flowers. 

Steve is dressed, transferring the eggs from the frying pan to one of two plates. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t be awake yet,” he says when he sees you. “Wanted to give you breakfast in bed.” 

“It’s okay,” you wave him off, “I don’t like getting crumbs in my bed.” 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “The couch then?” 

He brings the plates while you bring the coffee. The first few minutes are silent but not awkward. Just enjoyment of each other’s company as you start the day after spending the night together. 

“I was thinking,” Steve says, “I think Willow would be a really great dog to adopt.” 

You finish chewing your bite of toast before bumping his shoulder. “If you just wanted to adopt the dog, you didn’t have to do this whole ruse of taking me on a date and sleeping with me.” 

You’re pulled into his lap and smothered with kisses as the two of you laugh.

– - - - -

Steve splits his time between your place and the cabin. He doesn’t like leaving the family he semi-uprooted by his arrival, but the cabin also wasn’t puppy-proofed yet. Willow lived with you as Ari made sure everything was dog-friendly and dog-conscious. That included padding around the family furnishings and banisters that he spent precious time restoring. It would be removed when Willow was no longer teething. 

Being in less than three months with you awoke the part of him that he had hidden away. He was safe enough to share about himself and he did it so easily around you. Anyone else needed to build his trust, but as long as you would have him, he was yours. 

He holds you tighter as he gets pulled from sleep, hearing pinging from a device on the other side of the room.

Wait. He knows that sound. 

Eyes opening, he slowly unwraps his arms from around you to avoid disturbing you. He steps lightly as he rises from the bed and finds his pants, reaching into the front pocket to pull out the pager he keeps on him. 

Walking to the window, he angles the device so the screen catches the moonlight and he can see the letters scrolling across.

MISSION GOING SOUTH. BACKUP NEEDED.

His heart drops. They wouldn’t page him if they didn’t need him. He knows Bucky wouldn’t allow it. He can only imagine what the team is going through right now, how desperate they must be in order to page a teammate that was discharged because the missions consumed him. 

He looks at you, still fast asleep in the bed, then back at the pager as the message plays again. 

Putting his legs through his pants, he hesitates before replying. 

En route. Send coordinates.

Steve finds his shirt and puts it on. He opens the drawer in your bedside table and pulls out a notepad and pen. 

I’m sorry but I have to go. Take care of Willow until I come back. 

He peels the note off the pad and folds it before writing your name on it. After propping it against the base of your lamp, he stops and takes in the image of you asleep. 

He could just undress and get back under the covers. He wants to. He wants to pretend he never heard the pager and just go on the way he has with you for the past two months. But if he did, he wouldn’t sleep a wink knowing he left his team to suffer, or worse.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss into your forehead, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s a soldier. 

As he leaves, he ignores the tugging in his chest, stretching like elastic that’s ready to snap and bring him back to you at any moment. Down the street, back to the cabin, he boxes up the memories of you and locks them away. 

------

Tags: @nekoannie-chan @steviebbboi @raven-blue3000 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @brandycranby @kmc1989 @spectre-posts @emerald-evans

[benandstevesposts]

Legal experts say a fight over a Black teen's dreadlocks shows how the law still enables racism...

A U.S. judge recently dismissed a Black teen's claim that he was being discriminated against for having dreadlocks!

A federal judge this week dismissed a majority of the claims in a Black Texas high school student's lawsuit against his school district, which accused officials there of racial and gender discrimination for punishing him over his refusal to change his hairstyle. Legal experts told Salon that while the axed racial discrimination claim didn't have strong legs, thanks in part to a controversial Supreme Court doctrine of "colorblindness," the suit's remaining sex discrimination allegation has the potential to have significant reverberations. 

The order dealt another blow to 18-year-old Darryl George, a state judge earlier this year having found his school district's hair-length policy did not violate a new state law that aimed to prohibit race-based hair discrimination.

The Houston-area Barbers Hill Independent School District has argued that its policy restricting male student's hair length is meant to teach grooming and instill a respect for authority, according to The Associated Press. Its superintendent praised the recent court ruling in a statement, blaming "cancerous cancel culture" for accusations of racism.

Read the full report from Salon by clicking here!

[mcintoshevelyn]

INTRODUCING EVELYN MCINTOSH: i think i'm burning alive, but nobody sees the fire.

FULL NAME            evelyn grace mcintosh.

BIRTHDAY              july 12th ( 35) . 

BIRTHPLACE          salt lake city, utah.

GENDER                 cis female.

OCCUPATION     owner of firefly brewery.

BUILD                     athletic.

HAIR COLOR         brown (currently).

EYE COLOR           green.

HEIGHT                  5’8

PARENTS              hugo mcintosh ( father ) + wayne abrams ( biological father )+ patricia mcintosh ( mother )

SIBLINGS        open half-siblings ( on the biological father's side )

PETS                    stellar ( black cat ) .

CHARACTER PARALLELS: meredith grey (greys anatomy), peyton sawyer (one tree hill), elena gilbert (the vampire diaries), charlotte york (sex and the city), fiona gallagher (shameless)

BIOGRAPHY

tw: abuse, infidelity, pregnancy, death

Evelyn was born on an ordinary Tuesday morning in the dead of winter to Patricia and Hugo McIntosh in the back seat of their shared 1986 Bronco. It was an interesting way to come into the world but the girl felt nothing short of love from either of her parents. Her mother, a waitress, and her father, a barber worked hard to provide for their little family, especially given the secret that Patricia held. You see when she met Hugo their romance was a whirlwind and they were engaged to be married within weeks of knowing one another but she was pregnant with another man’s child, Wayne Abrams. She had thought she had found the one with him but he was living a double life and she wasn’t going to settle despite loving the man with every fiber of her being. It was mere coincidence or pure luck that she found another so soon and that their romance was anything but out of a movie and Hugo was never the wiser when she came back a month later stating that she was pregnant with his child. They quickly married and seven months later Evelyn came to be.

Her childhood was simple and easy; she worked hard during school and then during the summers she would spend them with her grandparents. She was a quiet child, observing more than interacting and taking in everything around her. Of course, as time went on, she became more outgoing but still reserved. She was captain of her high school's dance squad, student council president, yearbook editor, and even valedictorian when the time came. Her life was how she envisioned it when she was younger and she had no complaints about anything. After high school came college and she went to the University of Utah for Nursing. She, thankfully, got a full ride there and her parents couldn’t have been more proud of the woman that they had raised and Evelyn couldn’t have been more excited for her future.

With a lot of sweat, blood, and tears Evelyn made her way through college with a breeze behind her. Five years total, she found herself being a registered nurse. She moved to Boston with her best friend to start their nursing career at Mass General. On her 24th birthday, she reluctantly agreed to go out with some co-workers where she met Kyle a bartender who worked at the bar they had decided to go to in the next town over. They hit it off immediately and before she could even think straight they were in a relationship. She had never felt like this before and it was everything that she had wanted and more. And it was perfect bliss for the first few months, and things changed. The lies he told were more frequent when she knew he was cheating and he made her believe that she was losing her mind. He started to talk to her friends about her crazy behavior defending his actions to them as if she were to blame. She had broken up with him too many times to count but with a sorry and bouquet of flowers, she was forgiving.

After one of their many break-ups and screaming matches, he laid his hands on her and left finger-shaped bruises on her arms from holding her down so she wouldn’t leave. She told herself that it was nothing and wore sweaters to hide them until they were gone. This happened quite often and it was during this time that she had gotten a message from someone claiming to be her biological father. They had talked and he introduced himself as Wayne and it was like she felt a piece that she hadn’t known to be missing out back into place. Their relationship was easy and she trusted him enough to tell him about what was going on with Kyle. They had spoken for hours on the phone and would often speak more than she even spoke to her parents. If there was one thing she knew it was that she was going to be saved. During this time, she was still dealing with an abusive Kyle and she refused to speak to her parents after finding out that they lied so Wayne was really the only one that she trusted.

He had found her an affordable apartment and got everything sorted for her while also helping her get a restraining order against Kyle. Her and Wayne still spoke pretty much every day until she just didn’t hear from him. She told herself it was because he was busy and so was she trying to work to save as much as she could to leave. It had been over a month since she had last heard from him when she found out that she had inherited his home and the bar he owned, The Firefly Brewery, in Briar Ridge, South Carolina. She received a call from a lawyer in Briar Ridge informing her of the news.

She quickly made her way to South Carolina to do what she needed to in order to get her name put on the house and bar. The next few months flew by and while it has not been an easy transition from nursing to owning a bar, she has made the best of it and is trying to keep the legacy of her biological father alive.

[reasoningdaily]

The New York Times: In Texas, a Black High School Student Is Suspended Over His Hair Length

Soon after starting his junior year last month at Barbers Hill High School in Mont Belvieu, Texas, Darryl George was separated from his classmates because of the way he wears his hair, his mother and a lawyer said.

Since the term began on Aug. 16, Darryl, a 17-year-old Black student, has received multiple disciplinary notices that have culminated in more than a week of in-school suspension, where he sits on a stool in a cubicle and work is brought to him, according to his mother, Darresha George. Each morning, he is asked by officials at the school, about 30 miles east of Houston, whether he has cut his hair yet, she said.

He has not.

“He is actually getting singled out,” said Ms. George. “They are personally stopping him, ‘Did he cut his hair?’ Asking him at the door.”

Darryl has locs, or long ropelike strands of hair, that he pins on his head in a barrel roll, a protective style that reflects Black culture, Ms. George said. On Aug. 31, about two weeks after school started, school officials told her that his hair length, even though pinned, violated the dress code.

“I was told that every day Darryl comes to school, he would be put in in-school suspension because his hair has not been cut,” she said. “Even if pulled up in buns or neatly pulled back, because when let down it is below his earlobes and eyebrows.”

Supporters of the family, including legislators and activists, have called the suspension alarming, saying that it could test a new state law called the CROWN Act. The law, which Gov. Greg Abbott signed in May, says, in part, that any dress or grooming policy adopted by a school district “may not discriminate against a hair texture or protective hairstyle commonly or historically associated with race.” The law does not specifically mention hair length.

The Barbers Hill Independent School District’s dress code mandates that a male student’s hair “will not extend below the eyebrows, below the earlobes or below the top of a T-shirt collar.”

A district spokesman, David Bloom, said that the dress code and suspension were “not in conflict” with the CROWN Act because the code permits protective hairstyles, if the hair would not go beyond the permitted length when let down.

“The vast majority of hair code violation punishments — I.S.S. or more severe — have been handed down to white students,” Mr. Bloom said, using the acronym for in-school suspension, where, he said, students are kept in a classroom staffed by a teacher, and sit at desks separated by partitions so as not to disturb one another.

The school informed Ms. George of Darryl’s suspension just one day before the law took effect on Sept. 1, she said.

Even though the CROWN Act does not specifically mention hair length, Darryl’s supporters have said the district’s move violates the spirit of the law. Candice Matthews, a civil rights activist and vice chair of the Texas Coalition of Black Democrats, said that braids, locs and twists need to be long to protect the hair.

“It is a hairstyle that is cultural in nature,” she said.

At least 23 other states have adopted similar laws banning discrimination based on race-based hairstyles in the workplace and public schools.

On Sept. 8, the Texas Legislative Black Caucus sent a letter to the district superintendent, Greg Poole, and the school principal, Lance Murphy, urging the district to clear Darryl’s record and warning that the suspension could set a “dangerous precedent.”

“The school is arbitrarily coming up with something else, saying that it’s really not the hair, it’s the length,” said State Representative Ron Reynolds, a Democrat and chair of the caucus.

State Representative Rhetta Andrews Bowers, a Democrat and the primary author of the CROWN Act, said she was inspired by the Crown Coalition, which advocates adoption of the law in other states, and by DeAndre Arnold and Kaden Bradford, cousins who attended high school in the same district as Darryl and were suspended for the length of their dreadlocks in a case that garnered national attention.

“We anticipated that even with the passage of the legislation that there could possibly be incidents,” she said. “We knew that it was largely going to be education and awareness making people understand. We are still on that path.”

Darryl’s case is not the first to test the new law. In August, Katheryn Huerta, the mother of an elementary school student in Mabank, Texas, cited the CROWN Act when she was told that she would have to cut her son’s long hair. Ms. Huerta told WFAA-TV, a local ABC affiliate, that her district later relented, saying she could put her son’s hair in braids and a bun.

A lawyer for Ms. George, Allie Booker, said that Darryl had been given until the end of the week to comply with the school’s dress code or he could be placed in a disciplinary alternative learning program. Ms. Booker said she is considering legal action.

“We are not cutting his hair,” Ms. George said, “because that is part of his culture, that is his roots. It is like cutting off a part of him.”

[sethshead]

This is horrific and discriminatory, and a prime example of how black students are thrown into punitive disciplinary cycles for infractions of nonsensical rules intended to inhibit their social progress and stability.

The Georges' lawsuit is very justified, and this retaliation against a high school student is reprehensible. I hope the award is generous and that the superintended is forced to resign over wasting district resources on a war over one child's hairstyle.

[tiredtwstoutt]

This is STILL Happening in 2023...Black Hair Discrimination

Texas high school sends Black student back to in-school suspension over his locs hairstyle (msn.com)

A Texas high school sent a Black student back to in-school suspension Tuesday for refusing to change his hairstyle, renewing a months long standoff over a dress code policy the teen's family calls discriminatory.

George, 18, already has spent more than 80% of his junior year outside of his regular classroom.

He was first pulled from the classroom at the Houston-area school in August after school officials said his braided locs fell below his eyebrows and ear lobes and violated the district’s dress code. His family argues the punishment violates the CROWN Act, which became law in Texas in September and is intended to prohibit race-based hair discrimination. The school says the CROWN Act does not address hair length.

FILE - Darryl George, left, a 17-year-old junior, and his mother Darresha George, right, talks with reporters before walking across the street to go into Barbers Hill High School after Darryl served a 5-day in-school suspension for not cutting his hair Monday, Sept. 18, 2023, in Mont Belvieu. George will spend the remainder of the year in in-school suspension, extending a punishment that was first imposed in August over his hairstyle that district officials maintain violates their dress code policy. A referral given to George Tuesday, Dec. 5, said his hair is “out of compliance” with the dress code at Barbers Hill High School in Mont Belvieu, Texas. (AP Photo/Michael Wyke, File)© Provided by The Associated Press

“We are just trying to take it day by day. That’s all we can do,” his mother, Darresha George, told The Associated Press. “We do not see the light at the end of the tunnel. But we are not giving up.”

School officials said George was sent to the disciplinary program for violating the dress code and the tardy policy, disrupting the in-school suspension classroom and not complying with school directives. As he completed his punishment there, district spokesperson David Bloom said George was told he would go back to in-person suspension unless he trimmed his hair.

George's family has filed a formal complaint with the Texas Education Agency and a federal civil rights lawsuit against the state’s governor and attorney general along with the school district, alleging they failed to enforce the new law outlawing discrimination based on hairstyles.

The school district has filed a lawsuit in state district court asking a judge to clarify whether its dress code restrictions limiting student hair length for boys violate the CROWN Act.

State Rep. Ron Reynolds, a Democrat and chair of the Texas Legislative Black Caucus, said he planned to file an amendment to the law during the next session that “specifically addresses length to stop their pretextual argument to not comply with the Crown Act.”

“They are acting in bad faith to continue discriminating against African American students,” Reynolds said in an email.

George said he feels like is being singled out because there are other boys in the school with longer hairstyles than his. He was denied an exemption that the family requested because of the hairstyle’s cultural and religious importance.

“It’s frustrating because I’m getting punished for something everyone else is doing, growing hair, having hair,” George said.

___

The Associated Press education team receives support from the Carnegie Corporation of New York. The AP is solely responsible for all content.

[puffin902]

The principal and his "sacrifices" quote are both bull shit. It's really just don't look Black. Truly disgusting

[allthenewzworld]

A Black high school student in Texas who was punished for nearly all of his junior year over his hairstyle has left his school district rather than spend another year of in-school suspension, according to his attorney.

But Darryl George, 18, would like to return to his Houston-area high school in the Barbers Hill school district for his senior year and has asked a federal judge to issue a temporary restraining order that would prevent district officials from further punishing him for not cutting his hair. It would allow him to return to school while a federal lawsuit he filed proceeds.

George's request comes after U.S. District Judge in August dismissed most of the claims the student and his mother had filed in the federal lawsuit alleging school district officials committed racial and gender discrimination when they punished him.

The judge only let the gender discrimination claim stand and questioned whether the school district's hair length rule causes more harm than good.

Read more at the link in our bio.

[sidewalkstamps]

Norman F. Barber General Contractor Los Angeles (Photo taken by Rachel Hughes on April 14, 2024 around Downtown Los Angeles)

In 1912, Norman designed a garage and stable for Richardson, Holmes & Lamb Co., which was constructed by Barber-Bradley Const Co. I'm guessing Barber was the Barber in that company. In the same year, Barber was one of two architects for a concrete store and loft building in downtown Los Angeles for Alexander Meyer, again built by Barber-Bradley. Barber-Bradley were located at 1824 East 15th St. (Southwest Contractor and Manufacturer, Volume 10, Engineers and Architects Association of Southern California, 1912 and Engineering News, Volume 69, McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, 1913). In 1909 they were located at 212 W. 3d. (Engineering World: A Weekly Technical Journal of Civil, Mechanical, Electrical, mining and Architectural Engineering and Construction, Volume 5, Engineering World Publishing Company, 1907 and Brown, Charles Carroll. Directory of American Cement Industries, Municipal Engineering, 1909). They filed for incorporation on August 1, 1906 in Los Angeles (pg. 36, Annual Report of the Secretary of State, California Secretary of State, California State Printing Office, 1908). By 1907, they were already working on some big projects, like "erecting a manufacturing plant at 2620 Lacy St." for Talbert-Whitmore Co. (Engineering World, March 29, 1907).

In the 1913 Los Angeles City Directory, Barber is listed as a draftsman who lived at 4342 S Flower (Los Angeles Directory Co., Inc., accessed via LAPL).

In 1917, Barber-Bradley was "awarded the general contract ... for the erection of a brick and concrete school building at West Vernon and Olive Sts. in accordance with plans and specifications by Archt. W.C. Pennell." This year also has the only bid I see Barber-Bradley lost! They were not selected to build the "training quarters and bleachers at the new Los Angeles High School site" Some other projects from this year: remodeling the Eisner & Co. store in the Hayward Hotel building, including all work except for tile flooring and including but not limited to "plate and prism glass and marble fronts, mahogany finish and fixtures;" "repairing the fire damage to the 1-story brick warehouse on San Fernando St., opposite the Southern Pacific freight depot, for the Union Warehouse Company; "fitting up a room at 330 S. Main St. for a barber ship (sic);" erecting a brick and concrete school building on the 24th St. school site; and "alterations to Miller's Theatre at Ninth and Main Sts" such as adding a store room adjoining the lobby and a women's bathroom (Southwest Builder and Contractor, Volume 50, F. W. Dodge Company, 1917).

In 1919, Norman was a 'member' of Geo. F. Barber, Sons & Co, a general contracting business located at 4342 S. Flower St. The other member was George F. Barber, which I am guessing was his father (Southwest Builder and Contractor, F.W. Dodge Company, 1919).

Barber lost a bid to build Inglewood's new city hall building to W. M. Bell (Building and Engineering News, Volume 23, Issue 1, 1923) .

Norman F. Barber was the original owner and contractor of the 2-storey single residence at 2615 N. Commonwealth Avenue (Los Feliz Improvement Association Historical Residential Survey 3rd Edition Volume IV: Streets Beginning with Cl to Cu, Los Feliz Improvement Association, 2019).

There was a Norman F. Barber who wrote "Directional recording of swell from distant storms" with Walter H. Munk, Gaylor R. Miller, and Frank E. Snodgrass, as listed in Scripps Institution of Oceanography Contributions Index Vols. 1-39, 1938-1969.

In 1938, "approximately 25 tons of asbestos per month [were] mined from the Canadian mine, located near Chrysotile, Arizona, under the direction of Norman F. Barber, lessee, Box 1010, Globe, Arizona" by four men. The property was owned by the Globe-Los Angeles Mining Company (The Mining Journal for July 15, 1938).

Norman supervised the construction "of 100 unites for Marble Manor Housing, a Public Housing Authority project in Las Vegas, Nev." (Western Construction, Volume 27, King Publications, 1952).

[mongowheelie]

School punishes Black student over his hair for months — but neither side is backing down - Alternet.org

[pebblesinyourshoe]

The Wizard of Ash Grove

There is a dot on the map just north of the dot on the map that is Battle Ground, Indiana. This little dot has a few houses and a grain elevator used in times gone by. This little collection of houses was a whistle stop at some point. Ash Grove, Indiana isn’t a name that many know. The name rolls off your tongue nicely and always makes me think that at some point - maybe there still is - a collection of ash trees dotted the landscape and someone started saying, “That Ash Grove would sure be a nice place to build a house.”

Ash Grove isn’t famous for much unless you grew up in these parts. There’s a man who raised children there. His dad was a welder at Alcoa and he lived clear across the county in another little spot with an equally intriguing name, Clarks Hill. But circumstances meant that the family move north and settle in a spot smaller than where they came.

The boy attended Battle Ground High School. He wore the Tomahawk basketball jersey with pride although he admitted he wasn’t very good. His brother, he said, was talented. The Tomahawks won the county tournament with his brother. There is a picture of him with the net draped over his head at TC’s Restaurant. Stop by. You can see it.

This man grew up and cut hair and was an auctioneer. He had two sons and a daughter and the love of the game and its pull called him to embrace it longer.

This man had the idea to take the children who were his children’s age who sat in his barber chair or whose father did, and barnstorm. They didn’t have second hand uniforms - theirs were more third-hand. Most time they would show up and go right to the bench and coach would throw out a few balls and the kids would do layups and shoot around. They mostly didn’t have their names announced pregame unless they went somewhere like Rossville or Otterbein where basketball was a religion and no matter how rag-tag the visitors were, they were welcomed with a locker room to sit at half time and their names, which would be scribbled quickly by coach on a napkin or something after he bellowed out, “Jackson,, what’s your number?” would be called. Those were the best games.

Coach did nothing fancy. He let them play. He would beller and holler but never in a mean way. His kids always played hard. His teams always learned during the game and if you ask any of them now - all well into adulthood - they had the best time. They most often won and they always shook hands respectfully after the game.

This man is Ron Knoy. He’s a legend. I love him because he talks non-stop and when I was principal at Rossville was always so appreciative and gracious when he would barnstorm into town.

I began calling him “The Wizard of Ash Grove” about two decades ago. His son is a varsity girls coach and every game Ronnie is there. He is quiet most of the time - sitting up and away from his son so he could coach in peace. But about twice a game you will hear a loud groan after a foul or an errant pass or a missed lay up. The Wizard, like the Krakken, appears once in a while.

I had the chance to attend a high school girl/boy doubleheader tonight. I arrived about fifteen minutes before tip and walked by the sideline in front of Coach Knoy.

“Where’s the Wizard?”

“Oh he’s coming. He’s going to sit right there.”

So I made my way to the top row of the baseline bleachers directly to the right of the home bench and I waited. And sure enough, The Wizard appeared.

He was surrounded by an entourage of family and friends but sat by me. And I knew I was in for a joyous and educational basketball ride for the next four quarters. Ronnie didn’t disappoint. He was animated. He was critical. He was complimentary. He also never said a negative word about his son and his coaching. I’ve never heard him brag about him and I’ve never heard him be critical of his choices.

Ronnie Knoy is what I call a “Legend”. He’s a guy you hear about. He’s a guy you notice has something special about himself. He’s a guy that I often think about and ponder, “That guy wouldn’t want to talk to me. I’ve got nothing to offer.” But he did. And he has always taken the time. And he is someone that you spend time talking with and can’t believe that an hour has passed. He’s a legend but he’s as real as real can get.

I had the opportunity to spend part of my evening with the legend - the Wizard of Ash Grove - Coach Ron Knoy. As a fan of children myself, I appreciate that he is a fan of children as well. He represents something much different than the immaculate jerseys and organized travel teams of today. There is no place today for another group of barnstormers like that which ‘The Wizard’ organized and that is too bad. Because he offered to these kids something wonderful. And tonight, I’m honored to say that “The Wizard of Ash Grove” offered me his time and a whole lot of solicited (and unsolicited) knowledge. And my day was made and this evening will be remembered.

Thanks, Wizard.

[noahb216]

Darryl George: Black Texas school student suspended again for natural hairstyle https://www.npr.org/2023/12/06/1217580867/black-texas-student-returns-to-class-suspended-again-natural-hair